


Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away.

by secretsinmysoul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom!Bucky, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Romance, Shameless Smut, Slow Dancing, Smut, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsinmysoul/pseuds/secretsinmysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky hated undercover missions until one forced him to drag Steve into a romantic, entirely necessary, slow dance. Steve's body pressed up against his makes some things very hard to ignore.<br/>Sparks fly, feelings happen, mutual pining ensues. Smut is an unavoidable consequence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away.

Bucky Barnes did not like undercover missions. If anyone bothered to ask him why he’d tell them that a sharp shooter belongs up high, in the shadows, watching from above. That’s the way Bucky knew how to blend in. He felt out of place dressed to the nines and standing smack bang in the middle of a ballroom. Damn charity events, damn wealthy philanthropists.

Steve and Tony were on the ground with him. Clint had built his nest somewhere up in the rafters of the old opera house that accommodated the event. Natasha was covering communications; watching events from a vantage point and warning them of potential threats. Thor and Bruce were back at the tower, the lucky bastards.

Of course, Barnes had expressed his hatred of undercover operations to Fury. Bucky would never press more than once, though; his past as the Winter Soldier kind of negated any say he may have had in choosing which games he played now he was on the right team. Those kinds of decisions belonged to the coach.

When Bucky had told Fury that these sorts of missions made him uncomfortable, Fury had said that his hand-to-hand combat was better than Clint’s (he couldn’t argue there) and equal to Steve’s. So, Fury wanted him and Steve on the ground to intercept a threat as and when it presented itself. Tony joined them on the ground, as well, because if anyone could blend in schmoozing at a big event like this it was Tony fucking Stark.

They were there to protect Chris Torrent: a high-class billionaire with more money than God gave anyone the right to have. S.H.I.E.L.D received a tip that one of their most wanted assassins had been hired to get rid of Chris, and they weren’t going to let that happen. Chris Torrent had been funding research into clean energy so that Tony didn’t have to carry the gavel all by himself. S.H.I.E.L.D were keen to keep things progressing, but it seemed as if their plans had pissed off some terrorist organisations and that’s how Chris found himself the target of a dangerous man’s hit.

That’s also how Bucky Barnes came to be stood in the middle of Chris’s latest charity gala in a too tight tuxedo, chatting small talk with New York’s richest and best dressed. He begged God to have someone try and assassinate him.

What made things easier for Bucky was actually meeting Chris. The guy was nice and friendly. He told Bucky about all the charities he supported; he was a big advocate for the LGBT community, for homeless shelters and ending world hunger. Bucky thought it was nice to see a guy use his wealth for the good of others.

Oh, and another thing about Chris: he was notorious for finding the hottest guy at his parties, taking a turn around the room with him, and then taking him home. He’d actually asked Bucky to dance at the end of their conversation. Fury had warned Steve and Bucky that Chris might approach them with such an intent. Bucky was actually quite flattered to have been considered.

When Bucky had politely declined, Chris asked another man – tall, dark, handsome, dressed impeccably in a tuxedo that showed off how built the guy was. Bucky had to admire Chris’s taste.

That was until the mystery man agreed to the dance and Natasha made contact via Bucky’s earpiece.

“Target spotted. The man Chris just led onto the dance floor. Wait until he engages and subdue him. Do not let Chris get hurt, and don’t panic the ballroom until our guy makes a move. Stay on them.”

To stay close to his client and target, Bucky knew he was going to have to dance. He’d need a partner but couldn't ask a civilian; they might get hurt in the process of engaging with the target.

Bucky was weighing his options when he spotted Steve moving towards the dance floor.

Bucky took his opportunity and grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling him firmly onto the dance floor and into an old style waltz.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” Steve whispered in his ear. He went with the dancing though and Bucky had to admit that Steve looked a lot more graceful in his too tight tuxedo than he did in his own.

“I’m shadowing the target without engaging. You heard Natasha. See, I’m tailing them around the floor but subtly.”

“Yeah but-”

“All those times you told me you had two left feet, Stevie, didn’t know you were lying.”

And Steve definitely had been lying. Bucky was surprised at how well Steve danced. He’d never seen him be so graceful with any of the dames they took on dates but now he was following Bucky in perfect time. They were in sync; swaying and changing pace simultaneously, it was as if Steve knew the moves Bucky was going to make before he made them. Steve’s body fit against Bucky’s like a hand fit in a glove.

Bucky thought he might be addicted to this feeling.

They danced for three more songs, and Bucky was in heaven. Steve’s hand was warm in his, Bucky’s arm fit around his tiny waist all too well. The rhythm was perfect – slow enough to get lost in, but not too slow that he couldn’t feel their bodies moving together.

For a minute, Bucky let his eyes flutter shut and he wondered if this was what happiness felt like.

Steve was dumbstruck. He’d never been able to dance like this before. He’d been a useless dancer before the war and all the way into the 21st century. With Bucky, though, his mind felt like it was on autopilot. His movements followed Bucky’s naturally and automatically. It felt good. Everything around him went quiet, all the thoughts stopped whizzing around his head, just like when he got lost in his sketching. To Steve, everyone else in that ballroom was perfectly still but Bucky and he were in fluid motion. It awed Steve, made him feel like anything was possible, like how he’d felt when he was nine and saw his first magic show.

He remembered what he’d said to Peggy about waiting for the right partner.

“Eyes on the prize, boys.” Natasha’s voice, tinged with slight amusement, broke Steve and Bucky out of their individual trances.

She was just in time. Bucky saw the assassin draw a knife. He let go of Steve, reluctantly, and rushed to put himself in between Chris and the target. He blocked his knife, knocked it out the way, and when the assassin reached for his gun (holstered inside the leg of his trousers, so predictable) Bucky stepped on his hand, breaking some fingers. Then Steve was at his side. He knocked the assassin unconscious and handed him over to the S.H.I.E.L.D team already flooding the ballroom.

When they reached their apartment that night, having been debriefed and the mission coined a success, they were still in their tuxedos. Bucky still couldn’t get the dance out of his mind.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“What is it, Buck?” Steve said as he took off his jacket.

“Seriously, how come you’ve been hiding from me - for all these years, no less - how goddamn good you are at dancing?”

Steve snorted, “I ain’t good, Buck. Plenty of people before you have tried to teach me and I always stepped on their feet. Maybe I just needed your expert tuition.”

“Way I remember it you didn’t need any teaching.”

Their eyes meet, and Steve holds Bucky’s gaze for just a little longer than usual.

Bucky gets an idea. Steve sees the mischievous glint burst into life behind those blue eyes.

“Say, your old record player still works don’t it?” Bucky asks, smirking.

“Yeah but-”

“No buts. What say we put on a record and see if your spontaneous talent presents itself again?”

“You asking me to dance, Barnes?” Steve looks up at him with those baby blues and long eyelashes that fan his cheeks. That look only steels Bucky’s confidence.

“I guess I am, Rogers. You gonna accept?”   

“What’s the song?”

Bucky grins, and walks over to the record player. He scans some of Steve’s old records before he sees a favourite of his from the 60's. He unsheathes the record, places it in the player and music fills their apartment.

The tune is Frank Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night.”

Bucky hums along, swaying his hips, and extends a hand to Steve.

“You’ve gotten soft, jerk.” Steve laughs, but he takes Bucky’s hand all the same.

“Must be the way you dance.”

And then they’re moving together again, and the world is perfect. Bucky feels electricity running through his veins. Steve feels the world stop spinning.

Bucky knows now. Love is real. Love is him and his Stevie dancing the night away.

It was so much easier to ignore these feelings he buried so deep when he didn’t know what it felt like to have Steve’s body pressed against his, music uniting their movements.

Bucky is still humming. It’s all Steve can hear. With his head nuzzled in Bucky’s neck Steve forgets what it’s like to feel out of place, out of time. He feels at home. Bucky has always been his home.

Sinatra sings, “ ** _Something in your eyes was so inviting, something in your smile was so exciting.”_**

Steve raises his head, meeting Bucky’s eyes. Bucky is staring at Steve’s mouth, his gaze hungry. It’s sinful, Steve thinks. He decides he’s wasted enough time, has lost Bucky too many times.

So, Steve slowly leans in, inching his lips closer and closer to Bucky’s. To his surprise, Bucky closes the remaining distance before Steve has the chance.

Their lips meet and Steve feels his heart swell. Their mouths fit together, glide together, as perfectly as their bodies had when they danced.

Bucky breaks the kiss, and breathes out slowly before saying, “Stevie, I can’t believe you feel it too.”

“I can’t believe it took us this long to realise.” Steve counters, biting his lower lip to keep from smiling. He looks at the ground, then back to Bucky.

“Jesus, I’ve loved you since we were kids and all I had to do was dance with ya to get ya to kiss me?”

There’s that breathless charm that’s always stuck to Bucky Barnes like an expensive aftershave.

“Since we were kids? Even before I was…big?” Steve can’t believe a gorgeous guy like Bucky would’ve had eyes for a skinny mess like he was.

“Always,” Bucky clarifies, proving Steve wrong, “you love me now? Even after the amnesiac assassin episode?”

“Always. You’re my guy.”

“Punk,” Bucky huffs, but he’s smiling, “prove it.”

His eyes go dark and he looks at Steve with a focused intent that drives him wild.

So Steve pushes Bucky onto their sofa, climbs on top of him like he’s always dreamed of doing and starts to kiss him hungrily.

Bucky pushes back, his tongue licking, exploring Steve’s mouth.

Steve always thought Bucky would kiss dirty. He always had a filthy mouth.

Bucky undoes Steve’s bow tie and starts to unbutton his shirt. When it’s finally off, Bucky’s eyes slowly graze over Steve’s chest and abdomen. Bucky bites his pink, swollen lips and Steve decides he’s not taking anything slowly anymore.

He rips Bucky’s shirt off his body, buttons fly off in all directions.

“Fuck, Steve.” Bucky says breathlessly, lips still pressed against Steve’s mouth.

Steve nips at Bucky’s neck and down his chest. He’s deliberately leaving marks.

“I told you that you were my guy.” Steve mumbles, before he undoes Bucky’s belt with his teeth.

“Yeah,” Bucky exhales, “yeah I’m your guy.”

Steve smiles up at him, tugging off his trousers and pants eagerly. Bucky’s cock is hard and leaking, Steve thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

“God, Buck.” Steve moans before he licks the length of Bucky’s erection, making his hips jerk.

“Steve, God, please.”

“Tell me what you want, Buck. I need to hear it.”

“I…I want,” Bucky pants, “I want you to suck my cock, and then I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like I’ve been dreamin’ you would since 1933.”

Steve obliges. He takes Bucky in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the head of his cock. He sucks, hard and fast, savouring every taste of Bucky’s precum.

Steve’s cock is about to burst out of his pants if he doesn’t get them off soon.

Bucky must sense his problem, because when Steve pulls his mouth off Bucky’s cock, he’s pinning Steve down and reaching for his pants. Bucky frantically unbuckles Steve’s trousers and manoeuvres him out of them. Steve’s dick is achingly hard, dripping at the tip.

“God, Steve, put it inside me now.” Bucky says, licking Steve’s cock filthily and messily from bottom to top.

Steve groans but protests, “Not yet, Buck.”

He pushes Bucky back down and straddles him. Steve finds a bottle of lube under the sofa (thank God for Tony Stark and his fetish for hiding sex aids in Steve’s apartment), squeezes some onto his finger and pushes inside Bucky.

Bucky arches at the pressure. Steve loves how hot and tight Bucky is; better than every single fantasy he’d ever had about this moment when he jerked off.

Steve slips another finger inside and, as if to reward him, Bucky moans and strokes the length of Steve’s cock.

He can’t take it anymore. Steve hits Bucky’s prostate with his fingers a few more times, drumming to the motions of Bucky’s hand running up and down Steve’s cock. Then, he puts Bucky in position and pushes into him.

Steve is slow at first; he doesn’t want to hurt Bucky.

But Bucky is pulling at Steve’s hair and panting so eagerly. He’s begging Steve, “Faster, please Stevie fuck me harder.”

Steve loses control and starts to thrust inside of Bucky.

Steve is moaning. He’s so close. Bucky wants this to last forever, wants Steve inside of him for the rest of time.

Steve strokes Bucky’s leaking cock and in no time they’re both coming. Bucky is shouting Steve’s name, over and over, like a prayer.

When they’re finished, tangled in each other’s arms on the sofa, Bucky chuckles.

“What is it, jerk?” Steve’s voice is languid, hazy from the best orgasm of his life.

“Punk,” Bucky counters, “I was just thinkin’ that we’re always in perfect synchrony; in battle, on the dance floor, in bed.”

Now Steve is laughing. He pauses then looks at Bucky, his expression suddenly serious.

“I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

“Yeah, pal. I’ll bet it is.” Bucky kisses Steve, softly, adding, “Imagine if I’d never forced you into a dance with me, huh?”

Steve smiles, “I’d still have been waiting, don’t worry.”

“Waiting for what?”

“My partner, you jerk.”

Bucky grins, “Yeah. We’re partners you and me. To the end of the line.”

“To the end of the line.” Steve agrees, his eyes fluttering shut.

**Author's Note:**

> Another Steve/Bucky fic because I can't get enough.  
> They dance, they pine, they kiss, they feel and then some other less PG things.  
> Enjoy and as always feedback would be great! I'd love to know whether people actually read/enjoy what I've been writing.


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